The Nanny Proposal. Donna Clayton

stared at each other, he obviously feeling guilty, she feeling tremendously desperate. She didn’t want to be tossed out on her ear. She wanted to be here. With Joy. She had to do something. Say something that would make him change his mind.

      “Do your friends believe I’m a serial killer, or something?” She chuckled, hoping to break the tension with humor. But when she thought about some of the outlandish national news stories she’d read and heard on radio and TV in the past, this suggestion of hers didn’t sound so funny. Stranger things happened every single day in these times.

      “Greg, please.” Her expression as well as her tone revealed the utter sincerity she felt. “I know I’m pretty much a stranger to you. But I want this job. I need it.”

      What an understatement that was, she thought.

      “I know you don’t know me,” she continued. “Your friends don’t know me. But all of you can get to know me…if you’ll just give me a chance.”

      Indecision flickered in his gaze. She could clearly see it, and it gave her hope.

      “I’m not terribly educated,” she admitted. “I had to drop out of college in my freshman year. But I am well read. I’ve worked hard all my life. Supported myself. And my sister. So I’m hard-working. I always have been.” Her tone went all whispery as she automatically added, “I was forced to be.”

      Uneasiness crept over every inch of her skin. She hadn’t meant to reveal this much personal information about herself. Before he could ask her to elaborate, she softly blurted. “I’m dependable. And honest.”

      These things were true…well, usually they were, but remembering the lies she’d conjured for Greg this morning, the withholding of information and her true relationship to Joy, Jane nearly choked when that adjective had slipped from her lips.

      In a rush, she added, “I’m good-hearted…I’m trustworthy…I’m simple and straightforward.…”

      She flushed to the roots of her hair. As complicated as this mess was that she’d created, her life was turning into something that was the exact opposite of simple and straightforward.

      “Look.” Her gaze was beseeching, pleading, and she knew it. “I’m capable. And I’ll work hard. I’ll take good care of Joy. I will. Just give me a chance.”

      He studied her for a long, silent moment. Finally, he heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. But until you can give me some references…”

      A lump rose up in Jane’s throat, and tears burned her eye sockets. She pressed her lips together tightly to keep her chin from trembling.

      A single, hot and desperate tear trailed slowly down her cheek. She couldn’t have stopped it if she’d tried.

      “Please don’t cry,” he said. “You said you could provide references. You can get them over the weekend. As soon as I look them over, we’ll discuss the job again. Next week.”

      She wasn’t normally a crier. She didn’t allow life to get the best of her. The road of her life had been rocky a time or two. Or three. However, she wasn’t the kind of person to wallow in self-pity. But she hated the idea of walking out Greg Hamilton’s door and leaving Joy behind just when she’d found the baby again.

      Oh, why hadn’t she just been up-front with him from the beginning?

      Because he’s the enemy, a stern voice intoned in her head.

      But he seemed too darned nice to be anyone’s enemy.

      This man is a stranger to you, the voice chided. Just as you are a stranger to him. Pricilla’s told you enough about him to let you know you cannot trust him with the truth.

      He had turned his back on Pricilla. He had refused to offer his daughter monetary support unless he was granted sole custody. Those were the facts. And a man who was that controlling would never allow Jane to care for Joy if he knew she was the sister of the woman who had given birth to his daughter.

      “Please.” Her whisper was husky and paper-dry to her own ears.

      “I’m sorry, honey.”

      He meant the nickname as a comfort, she knew. But all she felt was desolation, humiliation. And anger.

      She was angry with herself for getting into this mess. She was angry with herself for not standing up to Joy’s father.

      But what good would it do? None. Somehow, he’d gotten his hands on her niece. And until she found Pricilla, until she discovered whether or not Greg meant to keep Joy, she really couldn’t do anything but surrender to his whims and wishes.

      A shaky sigh expelled from her lips, and she nodded. “Okay,” she told him. “I’ll go.” She paused, one last spark of an idea coming into her head, an idea that would make it possible for her to have just a few more minutes with Joy. “But would you mind if I put her to bed? It wouldn’t take long. And then I’ll go.”

      Greg shook his head. “I don’t believe that would be wise. It’s an awful chore, anyway, what with all the tears and all. You go get your things together. And we’ll talk again. Next week.”

      She gave him a slow, resigned nod. And then she walked out of the baby’s bedroom.

      Chapter Three

      The baby’s cries continued for every one of the seventeen minutes it took Jane to slowly and reluctantly gather the clothes she’d unpacked earlier and tuck them neatly into her small carryall. She checked her watch every thirty seconds or so, mentally battling the urge to go and comfort her niece. The hallway bathroom was directly opposite Joy’s room, so when Jane went to retrieve her makeup case and personal effects from the marble countertop, the toddler’s sobbing was even more audible, more soul-wrenching.

      Jane was sure her heart was going to rip right in two. She couldn’t leave Joy. Not like this. Not with her crying and upset.

      Greg had mentioned that bedtime for Joy was a nightmare, Jane remembered on her way back toward her bedroom. But it didn’t have to be. Not if she were allowed to rock her niece to sleep.

      Finally, she could take it no longer. Tossing her small makeup case on the bed beside her suitcase, Jane turned around and headed back toward the baby’s room.

      She knocked on the door, and without waiting for an answer, she pushed her way into the room. Greg look flustered and helpless.

      “Here,” she said, hustling over to the two of them, “let me take care of this.” Maybe if she just bullied her way into helping him, he wouldn’t have a chance to reject her offer.

      She scooped Joy up with both her arms, and the baby immediately hugged her tight, stuck a pink thumb into her mouth and rested her head on Jane’s shoulder.

      All was quiet.

      Jane’s ploy worked. Greg’s expression clearly revealed that he’d been steamrollered. He sat in the rocker, blinking, gaping up at the two of them, obviously trying to figure out how the silence came to be.

      Motioning for him to rise with a sweeping movement of her free hand, Jane smiled softly at him.

      “It’ll be all right,” she said in a hushed tone. “Just give me a few minutes alone with her, okay?”

      She sat down in the rocking chair and cradled Joy in her arms. The baby sighed, her eyes locking onto Jane’s face. The love that swelled in Jane’s heart actually hurt. But the achy feeling was wonderful. She hadn’t rocked Joy to sleep in a week…a week that somehow felt like many months.

      Tearing her gaze from Joy’s, Jane looked up at Greg, who still seemed in a daze. Without a word, he stared at the two of them for a second or two. Then he turned on a silent heel and stole from the room.